


Gemini

by ThePerk42



Series: There You Will Find Your Treasure. [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Minor Angst, Not Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, Post DH, Reference to menstruation, Reference to postpartum depression, Sexual Content, talk about babies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:56:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28996332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePerk42/pseuds/ThePerk42
Summary: Ginny has been giving thought to what it might be like to have another baby, now that the first three are quite grown...Without really meaning to, she asks, “Would you like to have another baby?”To Harry’s credit, he doesn’t look immediately shocked. Instead, he studies her for a moment and appears to be thinking about his answer. “Why do you ask?”“I don’t know. It’s just so quiet now. With James and Albus both gone. And Lily will be going in two years and then it will just be…”“You’ve got a problem with it just being you and me?” He doesn’t really sound offended though, and he chuckles, so she’s not too worried.“No. It’s just…don’t you miss that little patter of feet running around the house? And the way that babies smell when they wake up from their naps?”
Relationships: Angelina Johnson/George Weasley, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Series: There You Will Find Your Treasure. [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2162304
Comments: 10
Kudos: 31





	Gemini

**Author's Note:**

> This story is not compliant with The Cursed Child, but does maintain canon from the epilogue of Deathly Hallows.

Lily is over at Hermione’s and Ron’s house, playing with her cousin Hugo who is also feeling particularly disappointed about the fact that he can’t join his older sibling at Hogwarts just yet. This means that Harry and Ginny have the house to themselves, which _would_ be enjoyable if Ginny hadn’t taken over the desk in Harry’s study to work on editing a final article entry for the paper. Harry is sitting in the “guest” chair in the room, his feet on the desk, staring very overtly at his wife, who has her upper body hunched over the large desk as she scratches out a word and tries to write something else in very tiny letters. She looks up at him with a huff and then rubs the back of her neck. “We didn’t all get a week off, Mr. Potter.”

He shrugs his shoulders. “I only got a week off because I was gone for three.” He thinks for a moment and then asks, “If you’re going to be a while, should I make some tea?”

Ginny frowns. Harry may be the better cook out of the two of them, but he never quite got the hang of making a good pot of tea.

“Okay, fine. I’ll just wait here, watching you. Staring at you. Waiting for you.”

She can’t help but grin. Some parts of her husband never grew up with the rest of him. She’s lost in thought for a moment, and then, without really meaning to, she asks, “Would you like to have another baby?”

To Harry’s credit, he doesn’t look immediately shocked. Instead, he studies her for a moment and appears to be thinking about his answer. “Why do you ask?”

Ginny finally sets down her quill. She’s the one who asked the question, so she may as well engage in the ensuing conversation. “I don’t know. It’s just so quiet now. With James and Albus both gone. And Lily will be going in two years and then it will just be…”

“You’ve got a problem with it just being you and me?” He doesn’t really sound offended though, and he chuckles, so she’s not too worried.

“No. It’s just…don’t you miss that little patter of feet running around the house? And the way that babies smell when they wake up from their naps?”

“And all the dirty nappies? And 4am feedings?” Ginny rolls her eyes at that. “I mean, sure, I guess I miss the fun stuff. And it was great when they were three or four and we could start teaching them how to ride a broomstick properly. But, Gin, those were some of the hardest years for you. When I had to go, and you were stuck with the little ones. I hated putting you through that.” His use of the rarely observed pet name makes her stop and think. He is right – the year when James was newly born and Harry was away for days or weeks at a time was awful. It became even harder when Albus was born and she had a two-year-old and a baby to look after. Harry kindly doesn’t mention the postpartum depression that she experienced after having Lily. The first year after her birth was the most difficult of their marriage, without question. Ginny marvels at her ability to just…forget those things until now.

Harry is still watching her, so she finally acquiesces. “I guess you’re right. I was just being nostalgic.”

He looks like he thinks he’s done something wrong. He gets up out of his chair and walks around to her side of the desk, sweeping the papers aside so he he can sit with his thigh against her arm. “Hey, if you really want another, we should seriously talk about. We should think about it. We can have another baby, if you want to. If you think…if you think it would make our family more full.”

She looks up at him at that. She hadn’t really thought about the fact that, coming from such a large family, she may feel a pull towards continually filling the house with more children. Harry traces her eyebrow with his index finger and then crunches down to kiss her. It’s an awkward position for him, so she appreciates the tender affection that much more. “Let’s sleep on it for tonight. We can talk more about it tomorrow,” she tells him.

They go over to the Burrow for dinner that night, and much of the family is there (sans the children who are currently away at school). Teddy is in deep conversation with George about something and Harry overhears Hermione arguing with Arthur about some new legislation that she thinks would be valuable. Harry is avoiding that one – she often tries to push him to use his position in the Ministry to support her proposals and that’s bitten him in the arse one too many times. He sees Molly and Ginny talking to one another in the kitchen. Ginny is standing by the sink while Molly directs the peeling of potatoes and Harry is just about to go over to them when Ron catches his arm. “Hey, want to play chess?” It’s a rare moment when they have time to relax and indulge in one of their favourite pastimes, so Harry agrees. They find themselves tucked in one of the quieter corners of the Burrow, although a group of children do occasionally run by, screaming as they chase one another with a toy dragon.

Ron tells Harry about the new batch of Auror recruits, whom Harry will meet when he returns to the office next week. “Load of pink-faced babies. They were all terrified of meeting _you_.”

Harry studies the chessboard, knowing this is likely a losing game for him. He’s rarely won a match against Ron, in all the years they’ve been friends. One of his bishops is currently trying to give him a suggestion, but Harry ignores it. “What are you telling them now?”

“Nothing! Your reputation precedes you, mate. They all think you magically survived getting bitten in half by a basilisk.”

“Didn’t think to set them straight?” Ron shakes his head and Harry can’t help but laugh. The rumours about his escapades get wilder and wilder every year. “Well, they’ll see when they meet me that I’m just Harry, nothing special.”

“I wouldn’t bet too many galleons on that.” Ron looks uncomfortable for a moment. He rubs the back of his neck and then looks around like he’s trying to see if anyone might overhear them. He leans forward and speaks in a low voice. “I overheard Ginny talking to Mum. Are you two having another baby?”

Harry stops in his tracks, holding a rook midair. He looks over his shoulder to where Ginny is still talking to Molly, arms crossed over her chest. So that’s what they’ve been talking about since arriving at the Burrow. “I don’t know,” Harry says, feeling an unexpected constriction in his throat. He sets the chess piece down and then leans back. “She asked if I wanted to, today.”

“And you said no, right?”

Harry shakes his head. “I told her it worried me a bit, yeah. But I mean…it’s not just _my_ decision. We decided we would sleep on it and talk about it tomorrow.” Harry has always felt comfortable with Ron, but his and Ginny’s marriage – and much of what relates to it – is generally off limits for the two of them. They have always had a silent agreement that it is just too awkward for Ron to discuss his sister’s personal life in such detail, and so Harry usually has these conversations with Hermione instead. That being said, Ginny likely wouldn’t mind - she’s much less private than him, but he still thinks she should get some say regarding what they share and what they don’t.

“You’ve got to tell her no. Hermione’s told me all about what happened after Lily was born. What if that happens again?”

Harry frowns. He never shared the struggle that he and Ginny faced after Lily’s birth with anyone – not even Ron and Hermione. He thought it was a private experience for the both of them. He’s both a little surprised and a little frustrated that Hermione knows, but it was Ginny’s experience to share, really. He tries to let go of the annoyance in the back of his mind – Ginny’s allowed to talk to people about things, even if he wouldn’t. “I can’t tell her no. You know that. You don’t tell Ginny Potter no.”

“Tell me no about what?” Ginny is behind Harry, hands on his shoulders and abdomen pressing against the back of his head.

Ron and Harry both reply to her in unison. “Uh.”

Harry turns to look over his shoulder at her and the smile he heard in her voice just a moment ago is sliding off her face. “Harry, did you tell him what we talked about?”

Harry shakes his head but can’t find his voice. “I overheard you and Mum talking,” Ron puts in. Harry is grateful to be saved but wonders if this will in any way save him from his wife’s ire. “If you want something kept private, don’t talk about it in the middle of the kitchen.”

Ginny rolls her eyes and sighs at this. “Maybe _you_ shouldn’t eavesdrop on conversations.” She turns and walks away. Harry has a sense that the conversation is going to continue later tonight after Lily as gone to bed.

Ron grimaces and looks down at the chessboard. “Sorry about that one. Think you might be in trouble?”

“I’m going to say that’s a definite yes. We’ll see if I’m sleeping on the couch tonight.”

Ron laughs at that and moves his piece to end the game.

At dinner, Ginny appears to intentionally sit as far away from Harry as possible. He ends up with Lily and Hugo on one side and George and Angelina across from him. His choices of conversation are either whether or not garden gnome spit can cause your arm to fall off and the potential merits of breeding slightly larger pygmy puffs. He opts to angle his body towards the pygmy puff conversation.

“Not much larger, mind you,” Angelina says, cutting her green beans. “But think, if it was about the size of a rabbit, they could be sold to smaller children.”

George counters her. “They can be sold to smaller children as is. It’s not like they run away from anyone. Ever.”

“But they would be so cute!” Angelina, who is typically quite stoic, breaks out into a large grin. The pygmy puffs seems to have a soft spot in everyone’s hearts.

Ginny, at the other end of the table, is having a conversation with Ron and Hermione. She is gesturing widely with her arms, and Harry thinks she must be talking about the most recent quidditch match that she went to see. There was a particularly fine use of a new maneuver that found one team’s seeker wrapped around the post of one of the goals and the other team winning with a 100 point lead. Not quite as intense as some of the games she covered, but it’s still exciting to watch her play-by-play none the less. Harry finds his mind wandering, thinking about how it would be to have another baby in the house. Ginny has always loved being pregnant (other than the fact that she is unable to play quidditch after around her sixth month), and she loves being a mother, too. She loves making things for the kids, sticking their art to the fridge, and decorating (albeit horribly so) their birthday cakes. She’s never let a Halloween go by in which she didn’t indulge them in wearing muggle costumes and trick-or-treating with their friends. She made sure that they were read to, every night before bed, until they could read to themselves. And he’s caught her, more than once, dancing in the living room with them when they’ve had a rough day. Motherhood has been one of Ginny’s favourite parts of life.

What happened after Lily, he thinks, that was just a fluke. It didn’t happen with the boys, and it probably won’t happen again. But, if they’re going to have another baby, there has to be a plan. Ron was right about one thing, and that’s that the experience was horrible. Harry was so worried about Ginny – he would find her despondent whenever he came home from work. The children were always cared for – bathed, fed, and watched, but Ginny cried most of the time and didn’t talk to Harry about anything other than childcare for months. It had been terrifying to watch it happening to her, and he doesn’t think he could handle it again. Besides, the children were all young enough then that they don’t really remember it. But if it happened now…he thinks it would frighten them almost as much as it frightened him.

“Harry? Harry?” He realizes there is a hand waving in front of his face. George is trying to get his attention. “Hey, you alive in there?”

“Sorry, what’s up?”

“Oh, nothing. Just you staring at my wee baby sister like you’re a besotted schoolgirl.”

Angelina snorts and Lily chimes in, ever her father’s defender. “That’s because he loves her!”

Harry shrugs his shoulders at George and goes back to his roast. Lily’s not wrong, at that.

When they get home later that night, Ginny doesn’t really talk to Harry. She tells Lily to go and put on her pyjamas, and then heads to the study to finish up the article. Harry finds himself left in the front room, wondering if he is going to be allowed to converse with Ginny tonight. Rather than risking making her upset while she’s finishing work, he drops onto the sofa and pulls out a copy of Quidditch Weekly. He’s barely gotten past the front page, though, when Lily comes back downstairs, wearing her Chudley Cannons nightdress that Ron gave her last year. The orange clashes gloriously with her hair, but she loves it so much it’s almost threadbare.

“Dad, will you tell me a story about Hogwarts before I go to bed? I feel like…maybe if I can hear about it, it will kind of feel like I’m there with James and Al.” Harry doesn’t know how he can deny her. She looks so small, standing there at the foot of the stairs, her hands clasped in front and her hair, now down, wavy from the plaits Ginny had put it in.

So he hefts himself off the sofa and drops the magazine. “Sure, let’s go upstairs. Which one do you want to hear?”

“Um…can you tell me about the time that you found Fluffy with Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron?” This one is a favourite of all three of his children. Harry thinks it might be their way of telling him they would like a pet dog.

“Okay, hop up into bed. There you go.” Harry turns down the lights with a flick of his wand and then settles on the floor next to Lily’s bed. He leans against her night table so that their heads are near one another and starts to tell the story, in a quiet voice. Lily rustles around a bit, getting comfortable under her quilt. Once he’s gotten to the part where saliva dripped onto his shoulder from something up above, her breath has evened out. He looks closely at her, and, ascertaining she has fallen asleep, gets up as quietly as he can from his seat on the floor. He sees Ginny, then, standing in the doorway with a mild smile on her face, and her hands in her pockets. He steps out of Lily’s room and closes the door behind himself quietly before saying anything to her.

“How long were you there?”

“Long enough to hear that you left out the part about running from Filch.”

“Couldn’t throw Hermione under the bus for that one. They all think she’s the biggest rule follower in the family.”

Ginny grins and takes Harry’s hand. He’s not fool enough to believe that all is forgiven so easily, but this could be a good start. “I finished writing my article,” she tells him. “Want to talk about what I overheard?” She looks a lot less angry now, so he decides to bite.

“Okay.” He hopes that he’s not walking into some kind of trap. But it’s not like Ginny to set him up – even when she’s mad. She’s always been honest and up front with him – something he appreciates more than usual at this very moment. She will tell him why she’s upset, he will try to make it better, and then, hopefully, they can move forward. She squeezes his hand and then drops it, leading the way to the kitchen. Once she’s turned on the lights, she turns to get two glasses out of a cabinet and sets them on the table.

“Want a drink?” She doesn’t wait for an answer and starts pouring two fingers of scotch for them both. She uses her index finger to push Harry’s glass across the table, but he doesn’t pick it up when he sits down, just traces the rim.

“I’m sorry,” he says, before she even opens her mouth. He can’t look her in the eye, so he looks down at the scrubbed wood of the tabletop and tells her, “Ron asked if we were going to have another baby, because he overheard you and Mom talking, and I didn’t want to get into it with him, but he told me I should tell you no and I didn’t want him thinking that it was just my choice because it’s your body and your family, too, and it’s not just my decision – we’ve always decided together, and so I felt like I had to set him straight.” The words come out in a rush, like once they’ve started they just can’t stop. Once he’s done, Harry looks back up, nervous about what she will say, to see her smirking at him. He just blinks at her.

“I appreciate your apology,” she tells him, and take a sip of her drink. “And I know you wouldn’t have brought it up with Ron, you’re too private to do that. I’m not even mad that you talked to him about it,” she offers him a gentle smile. “If I get to talk to Mum about it, I think you should also have another person to go to, if you want. It’s not fair to ask you to keep all your thoughts bottled up inside your head, even if that is what you normally do.” She reaches across the table for his hand, and he extends his immediately to stroke the back of her hand, watching the freckles change colour with the difference in pressure. “I guess what upset me, or confused me, what that you said you couldn’t tell me no. It made me wonder if you don’t want another baby and you’re just humouring me.” She looks at him a little more harshly now and says, “We promised each other a long time ago that we wouldn’t be dishonest with each other, not even to save one another’s feelings. So I need to know why you told me you would think about it when you clearly have already made up your mind.”

Harry breathes a heavy sigh of relief. He takes a sip of his own drink before replying and relishes the warmth as it moves down his throat. “I haven’t made up my mind, not at all. Ron was telling me that I should say no, because of…well, because of what happened after Lily. I didn’t want to get into everything with him because I thought it was really your business to have that conversation or not have that conversation. I thought the easiest way to end it was to just say that I couldn’t tell you no. I want…I want you to be happy. And if that means having another baby, then I’m okay with that.”

Ginny had been nodding along as Harry was talking, as though his explanation cleared up all of her confusion. But at his final words, her head stills immediately and she blinks at him owlishly. “You’re okay with that?”

“Yes.”

“With having another baby?”

“Yes, if that will make you happy.” He doesn’t say it sourly, but with honesty. He wouldn’t _mind_ having another baby. He loves his three children more than almost anything else in the world. And if having another child would make his wife happy, he knows that he will enjoy it, too. 

She turns her hand under over Harry’s and scratches the underside of his palm lightly. “I’m already happy. I think having another baby will just add to that happiness.” She takes a moment before she speaks again, as though she has to plan her next words. “But I do think that we should make a plan, if we’re going to do it. I wonder how you would feel about…staying home for a while?”

Harry watches her face for a moment. She seems to cycling through excitement, love, fear, and apprehension in quick succession as she waits for a response. He took two weeks off of work when each of the children were born. He would have taken more time when Lily was born, but had been called off on an urgent mission. He had never felt overly bad about working so soon after their births because Ginny had been surrounded by a gaggle of Weasley women who had either had their own children and so were knowledgeable about how to help or who were eager to assist regardless. “Staying home?” he finally asks.

“I don’t blame you for going back to work so soon after, but I think…I think I would like you to be here, to see everything happen in the beginning. At least for the first three months, or so.”

Three months? Harry hasn’t taken three months off of work since the day he started working. He thinks about it for a moment. Ginny has never really asked him to sacrifice anything for their family. They live in Godric’s Hollow just three houses away from _his_ two best friends because that is what he wanted. He has worked as Head Auror for almost two decades, taking part in dangerous and life-threatening missions, sometimes gone for weeks at a time, and she has never once asked him to stop – not even during the year that Albus had regular nightmares about his father dying. Ginny left the Hollyhead Harpies to work for the Daily Prophet when she realized that touring wouldn’t be ideal with a child at home and their father out for a mission – she didn’t ask _him_ to get a job that would allow him to be more present. If she’s asking him for this, there is a reason. She’s thought about it, and it’s something that she really needs. “Okay,” he says. He’s not sure if he’ll be able to get the time off work, but he will do everything he can. “Okay, if we have another baby, I’ll take the time off.”

Ginny jumps up from the table and rushes over to Harry, wrapping her arms around him and resting her bum on the side of his thigh. She starts kissing the side of his face, his nose, his mouth – wherever she can reach. “Thank you,” she says, over and over and over again. Harry holds her and tries to kiss her back whenever her mouth touches his, but his heart is pounding in his chest. If she is so overjoyed, she must have been thinking about and wishing for this for quite a while. He wonders why she waited so long to bring it up and why she made it sound like it was just a thought – not a yearning. After a moment, he pulls away from her and notices that her eyes are wet with unshed tears.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks.

“Tell you what?” She presses the heel of her palm to her eyes and then adjusts her ponytail.

“You’ve been wanting this for a long time. Why didn’t you tell me?”

She sucks in a wet breath and then all of the excitement she had just had seems to funnel out of her. She looks somehow deflated at his question. She slides off his lap and slowly makes her way back to her seat before answering. “I thought that you might say no, that you couldn’t do it. I was nervous – what would that do to us? But then…I’ve just been craving it so much recently. Last month, my cycle was late and I was so excited at what that might mean, and I realized that I had to ask you. I had to know.”

“How long?”

She waves her hand in the air, like the point is moot.

“How long have you wanted another baby?”

She makes a face, like it pains her to answer him. “Since Lily was two,” she finally says, her voice strained. Seven years. Seven years she has been sitting on this wish of hers, afraid to ask Harry for one thing. He feels sick. What kind of a husband is he, that his wife feels unable to voice her own wants and needs for seven years while he just goes along thinking everything is fine? How did he not notice? Ginny seems to see the self-loathing growing in him, because she quickly tries to soften the blow. “But it was on and off for a long time. I wasn’t totally sure and I didn’t want to get your hopes up. I thought…let’s wait until I’m really sure.”

“Ginny, it wouldn’t have taken you seven years to be _really sure_.” He angrily swallows a large mouthful of the scotch and regrets it as it burns on its way down.

“No. You’re right. I should have talked to you about this sooner. But that’s on me – not on you. You understand? I made that decision.”

“Only because I made you think I wouldn’t agree,” he tells her, miserable.

“There were a lot of reasons why. Please, don’t beat yourself up about it. I’m just so excited that we’re on the same page now. Think about it, another little baby.” She’s smiling at him, and it’s such a genuine grin, he can’t help but return it. The guilt still sits low in his stomach, though, bubbling like a potion waiting for the worst moment to erupt.

“Do you think we should expand the house?” The house has five bedrooms and there’s one that’s barely used – it used to be Teddy’s room but he hasn’t lived with them for about two years, not since he got his own flat. They never really did anything with the room, though, and its still covered with his quidditch and music posters, still has some of his old and unloved textbooks on the shelf. Ginny generally dusts in there once a week or so, but otherwise, it doesn’t see much use.

“I think we can talk about that more when it happens. _If_ it happens.” Harry can tell Ginny’s just being cautious about getting her hopes up. They didn’t have trouble getting pregnant with the first three, but that was 10 years ago at least. Things could have changed. He gestures for her to come back to his side of the table and scoots his chair back a bit so that she can fit properly on his lap. Ginny surprises him by pulling her skirt up around her thighs and straddling him, one leg on either of his sides, her hands at the sides of his neck. She traces her thumbs up and down the stubble under his jaw and on his neck.

“Don’t ever let me get away with forgetting to tell you how handsome you are,” she says.

In turn, Harry traces the line of her back and leans in to mouth at the curve of her jaw. “Don’t ever let me get away with forgetting to tell you how gorgeous you are,” he murmurs.

They never would have thought of doing this even a week ago, with all three children in the house. But Lily is not as good at sneaking as her two older brothers and Harry is pretty sure they will have ample warning before she finds them in any sort of compromising position. That is, until Ginny scoots back and reaches for the zip on his denims. Harry grips her waist so that she won’t fall off his lap, but he still looks at her incredulously. “What are you doing?”

Ginny raises an eyebrow as she finishes with the zipper and twists her wrist to dip her hand below the waistband of his boxers. Her response is almost drowned out by Harry’s quick intake of breath. “After 19 years of being together, I would think that would be obvious.”

“What if Lily comes down?”

Ginny grins and pushes Harry’s boxers down just enough to expose him. “We’d hear her a mile away. She’s louder than James and Al put together.” Then she lifts her skirt, and situates herself over Harry, sliding easily onto him. She been thinking about this for a while, Harry thinks, based on how easily he bottoms out. He tips his head back and groans, but doesn’t let go of her waist. Her hair tickles at the skin on his neck as she moves slowly on top of him, her hands on his shoulders for stability. Ginny’s doing most of the work, using her toes on the floor as leverage, so Harry thinks maybe he should do something as well. He leans forward and presses his mouth to the cotton fabric of her top, just where he thinks the nipple of her breast would be, though it’s hard to tell through her shirt and bra. Ginny hisses and leans back just enough to pull off her shirt. She’s wearing a thin bra underneath, it reminds Harry of the ones she used to wear before they had children. It’s made of a gauzy fabric and he can see the dusky colour of her nipples beneath it.

“Is this new?” he asks, voice low. He reaches out to trace his thumb over the peak of nipple and then, with little thought, pushes the fabric aside so that her breast pops free. He tips forward once more, nipping at the skin.

Ginny laughs at his question. “It’s very, very old.” Her hands grip tightly to his shoulders as she arches. “Other one,” she directs him, her hips still moving in a way that makes it difficult for him to focus. Harry is nothing if not good at taking direction. He frees her other breast and moves to show it the same level of attention. Ginny’s bra is getting in the way of his ministrations, so he reaches around behind her to unclasp it, but she smacks his hand away. Harry looks up at her in askance and Ginny smiles again. “I like it like this,” she says, grinding down against him. “It feels a little…naughty, doesn’t it?”

Now it’s Harry who can’t help but laugh. She’s right, though, he can’t remember the last time they had sex with their clothes on, but he’s certain it would have been because of time limits or in avoidance of company. In any case, he follows her instructions and leaves the bra on, choosing instead to mouth at her collar bone. Ginny sits back a little and runs her hands through his hair, takes off his glasses so that she can dip down and kiss him without the metal rims stabbing at her. Harry dips his hands below the waistband of her skirt, seeking the warmth of her skin against his fingers. Sometimes, in moments like this, he remembers that they have only ever done this with one another and it fills him with excitement – that every new experience they have together is just that – new.

“I love you so much,” he tells her, without really thinking about it or planning for the words to come out.

“I love you, too,” she murmurs. Her motions are becoming more erratic now, for which he is grateful. He feels like he’s about to burst, but he wants her to finish, too. She was, after all, the one who initiated this. Suddenly, she grabs one of his hands and shoves it under the fabric of her skirt. It’s then that he does the math and realizes she hasn’t been wearing any underwear this whole time. Probably not all day.

He presses his thumb against her, moving it in a circular motion at a pace that appears to be pleasing, based on the face she is making. “Were you planning this all day?” his voice is low and husky of its own accord, which isn’t surprising because the thought of his wife getting up in the morning and choosing not to wear any underpants makes him feel like coming right then and there.

Ginny huffs like she can’t speak right now, but she looks down at him, pupils blown wide and give a short nod. Her fingers grip almost painfully at his arms and her body goes rigid. Harry decides he’s allowed to finish after she bats his hand away from her centre and he lets go. After a few moments, he realizes that Ginny has fallen against him, both of their chests heaving. “That was…” he starts, and she finishes.

“Really fucking hot.” She slides off of him and lets him pull his pants and denims back on properly. She immediately sits in a chair and puts her feet on the table. She winks at him and he recalls, years ago when they were first trying to get pregnant, Ginny sitting with her legs against the wall for up to twenty minutes every time they made love. “Just in case,” she tells him, now, adjusting her skirt a little.

Harry wants to go to her, to kiss her again like he had only moments ago, to run his hands over her still exposed breasts, but he feels like he can’t move. So he sits there and watches her chest rise and fall, as Ginny looks outside the kitchen window as something. She seems completely unperturbed, so at ease sitting in their kitchen together that he can’t help but let her calmness wash over him. After a little while, he’s not sure how long, she drops her feet and then takes off her bra, dipping to pick up her shirt off the floor and pull it over her head. “Ready for bed?” she asks. Harry nods and follows her without a word.

~

The next few weeks pass by like any other. Harry works regularly, spending less time in the field than he might like, but it does mean that he gets to be home for dinner with Lily and Ginny every night. Albus sends an owl from Hogwarts and lets them know he was sorted in Gryffindor, though, like his father, the sorting hat seemed pulled between two houses. James also writes and seems a little annoyed that his younger brother is in the same house as him, but Harry knows that James would have teased Al relentlessly if anything else had happened. Lily gets top marks on her multiplication tables and is doing very well learning cursive. She asks to try out for the football team and, after a few dinner table conversations, they agree that she can. She’s played football since she was about four, on peewee leagues and small community teams – Harry and Ginny both agreed it was a good way to introduce the kids to being part of a team before they got to Hogwarts, but having her try out for a team is difficult because she will only get to play for two years before she leaves muggle schooling. However, at the end of the day, they decide that spending two years on a team will only do her good and so they let her go to tryouts and she ends up being picked for the team.

Ginny seems to be enjoying Harry’s regular presence quite a bit – she is more affectionate than he is used to, and he finds that almost every night, they are cuddling on the couch or making love somewhere in the house. He knows that they agreed to see about another baby, but she is far more arduous than they had ever been when trying for the first three. One Monday morning, as Harry is pulling on his clothes for work, Ginny looks at herself in the bathroom mirror while she braids her hair. “I’m going to swing by St. Mungo’s after I drop Lily off at school today,” she tells him, as though she is commenting on the weather.

“Is something the matter?” He can’t think why she would need to go to the hospital, and pauses in the middle of buttoning his shirt.

“You’re not overly observant, are you?” She offers him a sympathetic smile at this and Harry just looks at her. “I haven’t had my cycle in about six weeks,” she tells him, hand moving to her lower abdomen. “I want to find out.” There’s a spell she can do at home, but neither of them really mastered it. The only way to know for sure is to go and get a healer’s opinion.

Harry feels a strange sensation wash over him. Warmth in his belly and a light fluttering in his chest. The skin on his arms tingles and then he’s stepping towards Ginny, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her back to his chest. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

She shrugs. “Six weeks isn’t that long,” she says, stroking his arm where it rest on her abdomen. “But I can’t stop thinking about it, so I want to know.”

“Will you come see me at the Ministry, once you’ve found out? Either way, I want to know.” Ginny shakes her head, like he’s just being silly.

But she tells him, “Of course.”

He has to leave soon after that, so he wishes her good luck and gives Lily a kiss on the crown of her head and then heads out the door, looking forward to his wife’s coming visit later in the day. He apparates to the Ministry entrance, going through the motions that have become second nature to him after so many years. Once he’s in the main entrance, Harry makes his way to the elevator and takes it up to his office. When he gets to his door, which is just across the hall from the bull pen of aurors – already teeming with chatter – he sees Ron bent over and talking quietly to one of the newer aurors. She just finished her training last month, before the new recruits started for the year, and she is looking at Ron with a slight frown of confusion on her face – it’s a look he’s used to, so he just keeps talking. Harry decides to save her and walks over to wish them a good morning. He probably shouldn’t have – for some reason, all of the newbies are comfortable around Ron but terrified of Harry. She blanches when he comes over and looks like she’s trying to find a way to appear like she’s busy.

“Morning Harry,” Ron says, appearing not to notice her panic. “Louise and I were just talking about that report on preparations for the World Cup next year. What do you reckon? How many aurors will need to be there?”

It takes them a short while to debate the number of aurors that will need to be present at the cup. It changes every year, and since it’s in the United States of America this year, any aurors that they send will merely be there to oversee the antics of British wizards and witches. They usually send a contingent of about five to the World Cup when it’s in another country, and it’s up to Harry to choose who gets to go. It’s tough call and part of him wants to send more just so he can send some of the people who couldn’t afford the trip otherwise. But he won’t admit that in front of Louise, lest she start to think he’s just a big softy.

After they’ve chatted for about 15 minutes, Harry and Ron head into the office to prep the day’s work assignments. Harry doesn’t go out much anymore – being the head of the Auror Division means that he spends the majority of his time working on administrative tasks. Sometimes he misses the earlier days, when he and Ron were often together on assignment, the thrill and excitement of tracking a catching dark witches and wizards together. But he knows that this work is better for him and his family, now. He can keep more regular hours and he is safe. Still, he didn’t accept the position of Head of Magical Law Enforcement last year when he was asked – that seems like it would consist of far too much paper work and little to no excitement.

Ron goes out to deliver the assignments – not that Harry doesn’t want to, but since half of the aurors currently working are fresh out of training, he’d probably scare everyone half to death. Better to give them time to get used to seeing him in the tea room before he starts doling out the regular day-to-day assignments. He’s flipping through a file on a case that just keeps bugging him – there’s something about it that doesn’t quite make sense – when someone knocks on his door. They don’t wait for him to answer before entering the room.

“Hey,” Ginny says, closing the door behind her. She looks like she’s been crying, her hair is slightly windswept like she’s just finished running, and she’s clutching her purse in front of her abdomen. Harry gets up right away and takes the few steps across his office to walk to her.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, though he feels there can only be one answer. She was going to St. Mungo’s to find out if she was pregnant, and if she’s been crying then it’s likely he know what they told her.

Ginny falls into his open arms and drops her purse so that she can fully return his hug. She presses her face against his chest and murmurs into the fabric of his robes. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“You’ve been crying.”

“Nothing’s wrong, Harry,” she says, pulling back a little. When she looks at him, there’s a twinkle in her eye. “We’re having twins.”


End file.
